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 not dressed for the occasion; but had come in the clothes in which they had been following the plow or hauling out manure onto the tobacco ground. Their ancient garments, mostly bleached to a common drabness by exposure to rain and sun, were torn and patched in the most unexpected places. Long, straggly hair hung about the filthy necks and ears and over the frayed collars. There were gaunt, gawky bodies, small, shriveled, distorted bodies, bent shoulders, slouching legs, and shambling feet. The faces, most of them with weirdly assorted features, were skinny, pinched, and bleary-eyed. Only a few of the young men were straight and ruddy and shone out healthy and wholesome from their dingy clothes.

At the barn were several sets of harness in different stages of decay, hoes, rakes, pitchforks, tobacco knives, a few tools, and a great pile of scrap iron, which latter Obe bought himself because in addition to his other activities he handled junk. There was also an old buggy, a sled, two wagons, and a plow.

The men strolled about among these things looking them over critically, shaking wagon wheels to determine the play, examining the prongs of pitchforks, and straining bits of the harness to see how rotten the leather was.

Obe soon got rid of this accumulation and led the way around to the hogpen where there was a black sow ready to farrow and another black sow with eleven little pigs squealing about her. The men crowded about the hogpen. The livestock always excited their special interest and brought the liveliest bidding.

"Naow then, who'll gimme a bid on this here black sow ready to farrow? She's a-goin' to have pigs any day naow; an' every one o' them little pigs'll be ripe fer butcherin' agin nex' Thanksgivin' Day comes raound. They'll git along nice through the summer on scraps an' weeds an' dishwater; an' agin fall comes you'll have yer corn to fatten 'em. They won't cost ye much to keep. Gimme a bid."

"Five dollars."

"Five dollars! Why, any one of her shoats'll be wo'th five